


Reading Glasses

by StrawberryMoon9



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Blow Jobs, Glasses, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rochu, Romance, Smut, glasses fetish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:23:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryMoon9/pseuds/StrawberryMoon9
Summary: Russia enjoys the attention his new reading glasses brings him. RoChu.





	

Music pulsed outside, boisterous voices chatting and laughing. Russia curled up further into the armchair, drawing the book closer in his lap though he was doing anything but reading. He stole a glance out the window, watching the other nations mingling down below in the courtyard.

Smiles, laughs. Lax conversation. Somehow, Russia couldn’t fit in with it. They either despised or feared him. Not to mention his sisters had been avoiding him as of late, and so really, who did Russia have left? But, solitude was only ever temporary. Russia knew that, and it reassured him at times like this. It wouldn’t be long until they came crawling to him, begging for his kindness and mercy. And oh, how Russia would relish those tear-streaked faces…

The door creaked open. Russia snapped his head up, finding China peeking his head into the room. Dark, curious eyes landed on him.

‘What are you doing here?’ China asked, sliding into the room and shutting the door behind him. Russia smiled, warmth in his chest. Ah, yes… The one who always came back to him no matter what. How long had it been since he’d seen his southern neighbour? Two years? Russia shut the book closed.

‘I got bored,’ Russia said. ‘I take it that is the case for you, too?’

China nodded slowly, eyes surveying the room. Russia wondered if China had spotted him through the window before coming here. ‘Something like that. I didn’t think you were the type to hole yourself up in a place like this.’

‘No?’

‘I figured books would be boring for you, too.’

Russia chuckled, holding up the book in his hands. ‘To be honest, this one’s not that exciting. It’s a good thing you walked in.’

China raised a brow. ‘You find me exciting?’

‘Always.’

China scoffed, a slight flush on his face. He walked over to the armchair opposite of Russia and slumped into it, legs crossed. Music hummed outside, the sky darkening and garden lights glowing. China sank deeper in his seat and sighed.

‘Are those new?’ China asked.

‘Hm?’ Russia blinked.

‘The glasses. I’ve never seen you wear them before.’

‘ _Da_ …’ Russia, pushed his glasses up. He had almost forgotten about them. ‘I only started wearing them a week ago. My doctor said I should wear them for reading from now on.’

‘Why? Did you hurt your eyes?’ China frowned. ‘ _Aiyah_ , don’t tell me you are aging already! Even a four thousand year old man like me doesn’t need glasses.’

Russia chuckled and shrugged. ‘Maybe I’ve been straining my eyes too much…’

‘Maybe,’ China said, chest rising and falling with soft breaths. Dark chocolate eyes lingered on Russia, the way they often did towards the ends of meetings, before breaks, after a long day of negotiations. It was what always came before panted breaths and soft moans, the unspoken signal Russia had learned to catch onto in their private moments together. Romantics would call that look on China’s face fondness, longing. Russia called it hunger.

He leaned back in his seat and took off his tie, smiling at the way China’s eyes caught onto the movement. ‘Did Yaochka miss me?’

China scowled, letting out a breathy growl. ‘I told you not to call me that.’

‘But ‘China’ is so impersonal…’ Russia threw the tie at China. China caught the tie.

‘It also doesn’t make me sound like a little girl.’

Russia hummed, taking off his shoes. ‘But I mean it with all of my affections for you.’

China laughed. ‘I know what your affection is like, Russia. It’s not a good thing.’

‘Then why do you keep coming back?’

China balled the tie up in his hands, fidgeting with it as he watched Russia. Russia took off his suit jacket, letting it crumple to the floor. He undid the top buttons of his shirt, waiting for China’s response. Nothing. China was still watching him, eyes blinking softly. He looked like he was thinking, wrestling with the question in his own head.

He undid his belt buckle, the sound earning China’s diverted gaze to his lap. Russia chuckled.

‘Am I doing this alone, Yao?’

China raised a brow.

‘Don’t tell me you came up here just to talk,’ Russia said.

China scoffed and threw the balled up tie at him. ‘Give me a second.’

‘I’m waiting…’

China darted at him an irritated look, kicking off his shoes and undoing his tie. He got up and drew the curtains closed, leaving only a sliver of light in the room. Russia leaned back in the armchair, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room as Yao’s quiet footsteps approached. He felt his pulse flutter at the sound of fabric whispering, a suit jacket falling to the floor by his feet. China straddled him, his weight pressing into Russia’s lap. China’s breath wavered.

‘Excited already?’ China chuckled. ‘Don’t tell me you waited two years for me.’

‘And what if I did?’

‘I would pity you. Time shouldn’t be wasted like that.’

‘I’m not worried about running out of time.’

China hummed, the room quiet enough to hear each and every breath, the sound of Russia’s own heart pounding. He hadn’t lied. He really had waited, pathetic as that was. Not that nations had much time for frolicking anyway, but it was always China that appeared in his loneliest dreams, always the thought of holding China’s lean body close that sent Russia into losing control.

Gentle fingers brushed at Russia’s fringe, tentative. Eyes adjusting to the dark, he could see China’s frame close to him, the streak of light glowing on the white of China’s shirt. He placed his hands around the sides of China’s waist, squeezing and feeling warmth seep through the fabric. China’s breath hitched softly, hands wrapping around the nape of Russia’s neck and pulling him closer. Their lips met, smoothing over each other in soft glides. Russia inhaled deeply, wanting to melt into China, to suffocate in his scent.

His glasses tilted, pressing into China’s cheek when Russia tried to deepen the kiss. He pulled away, annoyed at the glasses.

‘One moment, Yaochka-’ Russia whispered, reaching to take his glasses off, only for China’s hands to stop him.

‘Leave them on.’

Russia blinked. ‘Why?’

‘Just… You don’t have to take them off.’

A smile tugged at Russia’s lips. ‘Does Yaochka like them?’

‘ _Aiyah_ …’ Yao sighed, the flush on his face visible even in the dim light. ‘Forget it. Take them off if you don’t want them.’

‘ _Nyet_. I want them now. Especially with that face you’re making.’ Russia chuckled, slowly rubbing his hands up and down China’s sides. ‘Tell me, Yao… What do you like about them most?’

‘When are you going to stop using my name?’

‘When you start using mine,’ Russia said, trailing his hands down to China’s thighs. ‘Answer my question now.’

China huffed out, shifting in Russia’s lap. He didn’t answer Russia’s question, and he didn’t use Russia’s name either. He only glared at Russia for a moment, before leaning forward to kiss him. Russia placed his hand on China’s chest and stopped him.

‘Not until you tell me…’ Russia drawled out, a jittery feeling in his chest from the way his hand was pressed up against China, the heartbeat he could feel through the shirt.

China pursed his lips, glancing up at Russia. The sliver of light streaked across his face, illuminating deep chocolate irises. Irritation, defiance written in them. But there was a kind of subtle distress in them, too, the sight too sweet, too rare for Russia to ignore.

China sighed quietly. ‘You like to tease me, don’t you?’

‘What’s not to like about teasing you?’ Russia said, smoothing his thumb over China’s chest. China reached forward to adjust Russia’s glasses.

‘You look different with them,’ China said. ‘Softer.’

‘Softer?’ Russia chuckled.

‘Like you might bruise if I touched you.’

‘I didn’t know you had a sadistic streak in you.’

‘I don’t.’ China furrowed his brows. He pushed against Russia’s hand, the spark of sensitivity in China’s eyes hiding away. ‘You going to let me come any closer?’

Russia slid his hand down to China’s stomach, smiling when their lips pressed together, melding together almost bruisingly. Their mouths parted against each other, breaths mixing. A quiet moan slipped out of Russia, his hands fumbling to open China’s shirt buttons. China hummed, fingers roaming up Russia’s chest and throat, pressing and smoothing over skin.

He broke his lips away from China, panting as he placed hasty kisses along China’s jaw and throat. He pulled at China’s shirt, fabric sliding off to reveal pale shoulders, an empty canvas. It had been a long time since they had been full of pretty blooms of red and purple, a long time since Russia’s marks faded away. He sucked on pale skin, biting at it and feeling China curl up into him with a breathy inhale.

‘C-Careful,’ China said, hands squeezing Russia’s shoulder blades. ‘Nothing-’

‘Above the collar, I know,’ Russia said, smiling into the crook of China’s neck. He sank his teeth into China, relishing in the way muscle tensed and hips twitched against his, the incoherent murmur that escaped China’s lips. He licked over the red marks he left behind, kissing them softly as he undid China’s ponytail. A dark curtain of hair fell over pale shoulders, tickling against Russia’s cheek.

China’s hand smoothed down his chest and stomach, rubbing over the bulge of Russia’s trousers. Russia bit back a moan, hearing China’s contented breaths ghosting over the shell of his ear.

‘I can tease too, you know,’ China purred, palm smoothing slowly up and down Russia’s erection. Russia arched his hips, wishing for China’s hand to press harder, to go faster. But he wouldn’t beg for it, he couldn’t. China begged, if Russia played his cards right. China whimpered and mewled when he needed it badly. But not Russia.

China pulled back slightly to look at him, a dirty smile on his lips, embers of confidence in his eyes. ‘Tell me what you want,’ China said, nudging his nose against Russia’s. His palm gave a single, hard stroke to Russia’s erection, leaving a trail of blazing heat. Russia cried out, feeling the heat rise to his face as well. He never cried like that before, certainly not in front of China.

China’s strokes returned to gentle again, too gentle, too soft. ‘You want me to do that again?’

Russia shook his head, swallowing hard. Sweat was prickling his skin, heat scorching up in between his legs with the slightest of friction. Was this China’s vengeance? For waiting two years, for forcing him to explain his fixation on the glasses, for even letting the two of them fall into this situation in the first place?

‘What do you want, then?’ China asked, voice tender. Russia glanced up, catching the hint of playfulness in China’s eyes. He had almost forgotten China could play games, too.

‘Do I have to say it?’ Russia croaked out, the flush still warming up his face.

China hummed, hand slowing its pace. Russia’s breath shook, the way China’s lips were parted slightly sending his heart pounding in his chest. China knew exactly what he wanted, but he wasn’t going to let Russia have it easy.

‘I want your mouth on me,’ Russia stammered, head dizzy and swimming with the heat that was enveloping him. ‘Please.’

China smiled. ‘Where on you?’

‘On my cock.’

China’s hand slowed to a stop, no longer moving. Russia whined, unable to hold back. China chuckled, but his eyes softened, maybe that fondness Russia had dismissed earlier, maybe that longing he had mistakenly called hunger. Hunger didn’t look like that, hunger didn’t have the patience to play games.

China kneeled down onto the floor, fingers nimbly unbuttoning Russia’s trousers. His cock twitched in anticipation, hands squeezing the arms of the chair as China pulled down Russia’s trousers and boxers.

Slender fingers wrapped around Russia’s cock, pumping slowly. Russia moaned, throwing his head back against the chair. He spread his legs further apart, allowing China to lean in closer. He felt China’s tongue lick at the tip, warmth coating it and sending Russia’s hips jolting.

China took in the length of Russia’s cock into his mouth, heat enveloping it as China’s head bobbed up and down. Russia grabbed a fistful of China’s hair, his mouth parting though no sound came out of it. China made soft moans against his cock, dark half-lidded eyes fluttering closed. Russia heard the opening of a zipper, China’s hand reaching down into his own lap and pumping.

Russia tightened his grip on China’s hair, his own loud breaths filling up the room, the sound of China moaning against him, of fabric rustling as China touched himself. His cock was burning, blazing as China’s mouth tightened around it.

‘Y-Yao…’

Russia’s breath hitched, pleasure shooting through his cock. China groaned, tongue running over the shaft and tip whilst one hand was still rubbing himself. His body still pulsing and ebbing with pleasure, he pulled China up into his lap, kissing him lazily. He reached for China’s cock and began to pump, a small gasp trapped in the kiss. A moan ripped out of China’s throat, body tensing in Russia’s lap. Come spilled out onto Russia’s shirt.

China fell limp in his arms, panting, forehead matted with sweat as it pressed against Russia’s chest.

Music thrummed outside, muffled. The sliver of light had darkened, fainter than before as it streaked the back of China’s shirt. Their breaths calmed, and when they grew quiet Russia started smoothing out China’s hair, undoing the tangles in it.

‘Ivan…’ China murmured. Russia glanced down, not sure if he had heard correctly.

‘Yes?’

China sighed, tucking his legs snugly around Russia’s waist. ‘I need to know what number to write on the pay check.’

‘For using my services?’

China laughed breathily, tickling Russia’s throat. ‘No… For damages.’ He pawed at Russia’s chest. ‘Your shirt.’

‘Oh. Does it matter?’

China shrugged. ‘Just trying to be civil.’

Russia chuckled. He glanced down again, unable to see China’s face past the curtain of hair. He wanted to hear his own name again, the lilt of China’s accent on it. More than any tear-streaked face, more than anyone’s surrender, he wanted to hear China say his name again. He smoothed his hand down China’s back, muscle eased beneath it, soft.

‘You said my name before,’ Russia said, hopeful.

‘Hm…?’

‘You did.’

‘I wasn’t doubting you…’ China mumbled. He shifted in Russia’s lap, lifting his face up. His eyes were still half-lidded, drowsy and sweet. They lingered, watching Russia. ‘You can take your glasses off now if you want.’

A small chuckle burst out of Russia’s lips. ‘ _Nyet_ , I think I’ll keep them. I like the way Yaochka looks at me with them on.’

China hummed, not saying anything. He rested his head back onto Russia’s chest, silence washing over them like a wave that would never pull back. Russia closed his eyes, glad to drown in it.


End file.
